


Bonded

by Fogfire



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 11:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fogfire/pseuds/Fogfire
Summary: Inspiration: T’Pol and Trips Bond





	1. Chapter 1

The day you step onto the Enterprise is the day you begin a new life, you tell yourself. A life where you make friends and keep them, where you work hard to not lose yourself in work anymore. You strive to be a better person.

But then the Lieutenant in front of you steps aside to shake the Captain’s hand and you come eye to eye with the first officer, a vulcan, male, about your age.

You’ve seen more than one vulcan in your lifetime, even though you had hardly time to get to know any of them, but never has the sight of one of them made your brain and heart and body react in the way it does now.

Your heart jumps in your chest, your hands curl into fists and your brain manages barely more than one coherent thought. He’s gorgeous.

You do, what you’d always do when you find someone attractive.

You step away.

You’re pretty lucky with your new job.

After working your ass off on different starships and starbases, you have made yourself a name as a doctor, qualified to treat a diversity of species.

As the Enterprise is going to be the one to find places no one has before and the Captain has the tendency to get himself and everyone else into danger, they’ve had reasons to ask specifically for you.

And you do make a good team.

Grumpy McCoy takes care of the humans - complaining about them all the same - while M’Benga concentrates on the Vulcan team members. And you get all the rest. There’s one more doctor who covers the nightshift, but so far she’s only spoken french when you’re around and you’re not sure if she does not speak anything else or just didn’t want to include you into the conversation at that time.

And you’ve made friends. Well, you call them that, at least, because you’re on better terms with them than you’ve been with most people.

“Coffee?” McCoy waltzes through your office to use your Replicator.

“Why yes, why don’t you use my Replicator?” You snark at him, but he doesn’t stop, just punches in what he needs.

“Mine’s broken.”

“Again?!”

He snorts, rolls his eyes at you and drops the first cup of coffee on your desk, next to the empty cup you’ve had drunk out before.

“That damn hobgoblin is coming around for an exam he needs for his away mission and he’s getting on my nerves.”

“Everyone is getting on your nerves.”

“Right, why are you in here again?”

“This is my office,” you send him a pointed glare as he takes the chair across from your desk, “Wait, who’s the hobgoblin?”

“Spock,” he growls and you pull a face before you can stop yourself.

“Oh! What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Your face.”

“Yeah, that’s my face, what about it?”

He smirks at you. “You don’t like him either?”

You grab your PADD and get up. “As you are so adamant on making me leave the room, I’ll follow your request.”

“No! Don’t leave! Spock’s out there!” He warns you, laughter hiding in his voice.

You roll your eyes at him.

“I’m able to be in the same room with people I don’t find comfortable. I’m not a child.”

You step out of the office before you can rethink your choice to insult your CMO only to find yourself face to face with the Commander Spock.

“Greetings,” you tell him in a voice so stiff you can’t believe it’s coming from you.

You turn away and leave before he can answer, slipping into an empty exam room on the way to calm down your heart.

It’s easy to forget the way you react on the first officer as long as he’s not crossing your ways.

But he crosses your way. Way too often for your liking and if you’d allowed to, you’d stay in your office all the time just to avoid him.

It’s hard to be professional when just the sight of a blue shirt and black hair makes your heart jump in your chest and your mouth dry.

“Great news,” McCoy barges into your office again, slapping a PADD down on your desk, “There is an away mission and you’re on the team.”

“What?” You grab the PADD, reading through it, “This says M’Benga.”

“M’Benga got an ear infection, he’s been out since yesterday, didn’t you notice Lefebvre working his shifts?”

“I think she’s avoiding me,” you tell him, “Or I’m avoiding her, I don’t know. Does she only speak french?”

“I’ve never heard her speak anything else,” McCoy shrugs, “Doesn’t matter, you’re on the mission and it’s leaving in about an hour, so get ready.”

You get up from your chair, annoyed of this short notice change in plans, but delighted for the chance to go down to a planet again. It’s been quite some time since the last chance you’ve got.

But as soon as you step into the transporter room, your happiness subsides when you see Spock standing there, waiting for the rest of the team to trickle in.

You send a greeting nod in his direction and leave it at that. There’s no sense in talking to him when you can’t trust your voice anyway.

“I am glad that you are accompanying us as replacement of M’Benga, Doctor Y/N,” he addresses you before you can run away another time.

You stare at him, unable to speak. He obviously takes your silence as a sign of surprise or shock, because he elaborates, talking about the amount of experience you have. It almost sounds like he’s praising you, but giving your further experience with Vulcan’s it could also be the standard awkward smalltalk as they are trying to improve the team’s morale.

You’re glad when he stops talking, as you’ve been unable to speak anyway and you’re glad when he leads the team across the planet’s surface, addressing each of you with a task.

As the medical officer you’re just there to be of use when necessary and you stand back and watch the pack of science officers taking samples of literally everything.

You’re also a bit ashamed to admit that most of the time you’re sneaking peeks at Commander Spock’s figure, amazed how a guy that’s actually not even your type can have such an effect at you.

Maybe you should just talk to him. Maybe that will make the feelings go away.

And just as you think that, you feel a rumble going through the cliff you’re standing on.

“Commander!” You yell and he looks back at you, nodding. He’s felt it too.

“Everyone run towards the forest!” You order, a strange mixture of intuition, reflexes and your experience on a particular nasty planet kicking in, “Now!”

You pull a girl up that’s just two steps left from you and give her a well meant push, ushering everyone towards the forest. Spock’s got his Comm in hand and you can hear him ask to be beamed up over the sound of another rumbling.

You grab his hand, as he does not move and pull him with you, over the cracks that start to form in the formerly thick stone. Something gives way right beneath you, your left leg slipping through the crack, your knee hitting hard against the rock.

You scream in agony, your hand slipping out of Spock’s.

“This is going to hurt,” he says and then there’s a cracking sound, an agonizing pain shooting up your leg and he pulls you free and into his arms, carrying you while running.

If not for the pain that’s threatening to take your consciousness with it, you’d be ashamed of the position you’re currently in, but your head falls against his collarbone and you take deep breaths, trying to calm your down.

Your body feels very hot where he touches you. Vulcan body temperature is higher than humans, you remember as your mind slips into something you can’t explain.

You can see your own body in Spock’s arms, but not from above, more like it must look like through his eyes. You can see the forest coming closer, gold light taking away one team member after the other. You can feel weirdly calm and above all of this, no worry, no panic, just one intake of breath after another as if all your emotions are far far away from you.

And then, with that sickening feeling of falling, you know the rock is giving way beneath you. Gold light blinds you before your back crashes hard against the floor of the Enterprise’s transporter room, a heavy body crashing into you, knocking the breath out of you and your conscious as well.

When you wake up again, your foot is resting on a pillow and McCoy glares at you from where he’s handling the osteo regen.

“I let you go on one away mission and you manage to break your leg in two places while the planet falls apart.”

You’re too tired to answer, just stick your tongue out at him and close your eyes.

There’s a weird feeling right at the back of your skull. You must your head pretty hard.

Two days later the feeling hasn’t left and you find yourself sitting in your office, staring at the wall across from you after a rather disturbing daydream.

Disturbing as in how realistic the dream had been. For the whole time it had happened you had been convinced Commander Spock had walked into your office, demanding to drink a cup of tea with you.

And your body reacts to dream Spock just the same as it does to the real Spock.

You manage it through three days before you go to talk to someone you trust.

“McCoy, can you take a look at my head?”

“Yeah, sure, it’s round and has skin on it,” he jokes but turns serious when he sees your face, “Turn around.”

A few tests later the results are in. He lets you look over them.

“Nothing?” You look at them a second time. “But I have this weird feeling at the back of my skull and I’ve been daydreaming. Really strange dreams of Spock wanting to talk to me. It was very realistic and-” You stop yourself as you see the look on McCoy’s face.

‘Wait, you know what this is about, right?”

“Yes,” he heaves a sigh and you can feel your blood turning cold.

“No, not that, goddamnit woman, don’t think of the worst right away.”

“How can I not when you act like this!”

“It’s a damn bond, that’s all,” he snaps, “You and Spock have bonded. You must have touched quite a lot during that mission…”

“Stop right there,” you interrupt him, “The amount of touching was nothing but necessary to get both of us out there alive. If this would happen so easily there would be way more humans and vulcans bonded out there.”

“He must like you then, because I can’t imagine Spock letting his guard down by accident either. Hasn’t he tried talking to you yet? Have you felt something unusual from his side?”

“Wait, this bond… are you insinuating that he can feel what I feel?”

“As far as I understand it, yes, he can.”

You think of the way you’ve reacted to the daydream of him and put your head in your hands with a groan.

“I’m so fucked.”

He laughs. “I do agree with you on that. But I guess you’d better talk this out with the man itself.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, go on and have some more weird daydreams about that man, if you’d like that better,” McCoy jokes and slaps your arm lightly with his PADD,” Now get out of my exam room, you’re relieved for the rest of the day.”

You find Commander Spock in his ready room.

The moment he turns to look at you, you can feel that weird thing on the back of your skull, pulling like an elastic band, accompanied with a weird feeling of contentment.

“I’m taking that you’re happy to see me?”

“I don’t think I’m the only one who feels this way about the other,” he respons and you glare at him, knowing full well he will feel your shame through the bond.

“What are we going to do about this bond?” You ask him, still standing in the doorway.

“I have a proposal,” he starts, getting up from his chair, “We sit down, drink a cup of tea and discuss this. If we don’t find this bond acceptable after we’ve gotten to know each other, there are ways to undo this bond.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” You mock him.

You can feel his amusement at your wording.

“Yes, I believe I do.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How is it?” McCoy asks when you walk into med-bay.

“How is what?” You ask back while crossing the distance towards the replicator, requesting two cups of coffee.

“Having a bond with that green-blooded hobgoblin.”

“It’s been a day, okay?” You quip and hand him one of the cups, “So far we haven’t killed each other.”

McCoy grins at that and takes a sip.

“You acting like you hate him won’t fool me, dear. You’re pretty obvious about your feelings.”

You groan and step aside, hoping that will end the conversation. It doesn’t.

-

“Date night?” McCoy asks two days later when you step out of your office after having gone through all your paperwork - or more accurately, PADD-work. You rub your lips together self-consciously, aware of the color of your lipstick you rarely use.

“What does it matter?” You ask back, hiding your anxiety behind a cool facade. Not that it works, McCoy sees straight through you.

“Nothing. Have fun.” He grins while saying so and you roll your eyes at him and step out of med-bay.

It doesn’t take you long to realize that date night with Spock usually means the choice between two things: Meditate with him or play chess with him.

You usually opt for chess at it gives you the opportunity to talk while doing so, but you’re rather bad at chess so you’re mostly quiet as you try not to lose too badly.

It takes you two weeks or four date nights until you’re tired of it. But how do you tell him that without offending him?

You don’t want him to realize it by reading your feelings through the bond and keep calm as much as possible until you’re tired of that too and drop in the seat in front of McCoy’s desk with a groan.

“What?”

“How do I tell him that I hate chess?”

“By using your mouth, for example?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I would have done that if it was easy. For someone so intent on nosing around in my matters you could have better advice.”

“You want better advice?” McCoy puts down your PADD and looks at you, “Do you think you two are still bonded because you are a shy wallflower that says yes to everything he likes and does? If he wanted something like that, he could have found plenty of those on Vulcan or elsewhere.”

You stare at him wordlessly for a few seconds before you push yourself out of your seat.

“This must be the worst version of ‘Be yourself!’ I’ve ever heard,” you tell him as you walk out his office.

“I hope so!” He calls after you as you leave.

-

“You are early,” Spock tells you as you step into his ready room.

“Well yeah,” you say, “I like spending time with you.”

He looks up at you, eyebrow raised in question.

“You have something to say?”

“Yes. I hate chess.”

Spock stops short and you take a breath.

“Well, I don’t exactly hate it, you know, but I’m really bad at it, but I figured we could still talk while playing chess whereas meditating seems just plain impossible to me.”

“What do you propose then?”

“There are so many things to choose from. Watch a movie, listen to music we like, make music even or just, I don’t know, talk like we did that first time. And that’s just the innocent part of my ideas.”

He quirks the left side of his mouth upwards until it positively looks like he’s smiling and you grin back at him.

“I’m open to all of your ideas,” he says and you nod.

“Well, how about you show me what we can do with that bond thing anyway?”

You feel a tingling sensation at the back of your head where the connection rests and close your eyes involuntarily as pictures, sounds and feelings trickle in.

You can see yourself talking on a conference, can hear Spock talk to Captain Kirk how you would be a viable addition to the team and feel his eagerness to talk to you when you first step onto the Enterprise.

Your eyes snap open as you realize what he’s trying to show you and the connection stills.

“I am very interested in what you might have to tell,” Spock tells you softly and gestures towards the couch for you to take a seat.

-months later -

It feels different to date when you’re bonded.

It feels different to be bonded.

You are not just yourself anymore and everytime you say or do or feel something, you are reminded of that.

When Ensign Kreger vomits all over your shoes you can feel Spock’s annoyance pricking you right at the back of your skull. It makes it harder to stay calm.

It also makes it harder to stay friends with Dr. McCoy because you can literarily feel Spock’s feelings whenever the CMO makes you laugh. Not that Spock would acknowledge himself having feelings at all, anyway.

“Stop that,” you tell him one morning as soon as you’ve made it to your quarters

after an exhausting Gamma shift. You’re sprawled out on the bed and Spock is standing in the doorway, face passive, but annoyance ringing loud and clear through your bond.

“I merely wish you would take better care of yourself,” he states and you grunt.

“Liar.”

“Vulcans do not lie,” Spock claims and steps forward to pull your shoes from your feet.

“But you keep information to yourself. You are annoyed by the fact that I’ve managed to have fun with Dr. McCoy.”

He stops what he’s doing and it’s getting harder for you to stay awake.

“That is true,” he finally confesses, “I admit that the logic of your friendship with the CMO appeals to me in a way I do not particularly like.”

“What?” You turn your head to look at him. “What logic?”

“Doctor McCoy has similar interests, a similar sense of humor and he is fully human. You fit together.”

You snort. “but he does not make my heart jump whenever I see him. Something you should know because we are bondmates.”

“That is a feeling and therefore purely illogical.”

“Illogical or not, I love you.” You tell him, your tongue made loose by exhaustion.

He leans forward to press his lips to your temple.

“I love you too,” he mumbles softly against your skin as you slowly but surely lose your fight and fall asleep.

-

A relationship is always hard work.

Sure, the bond helps you understand what the other is feeling and it makes many things easier, but not all.

The bond intensifies feelings, the positive ones and the negative ones as well.

You feel twice as happy when you’re happy with Spock, but you also feel twice as angry when he’s angry with you. Or when you’re angry with him. The lines blur until the source of the feelings are no longer clear.

“You could just tell me what she’s telling you,” you snap as you pull out a new uniform from your cupboard.

“I did. She informed me about the progress of the new vaccine.”

“And why did she giggle then?” You throw him a look, annoyance coursing through you, “Don’t tell me vaccines have turned into some new joke nowadays. Or is it just the French way to look serious?”

“Are you jealous?” He asks back, too calm for your liking, “Of Dr. Lefebvre?”

“She never talks to me, okay?” You tell him, huffing out in anger, “And when she does she speaks French which she knows I don’t understand and now she’s talking to my boyfriend, all giggly and smiley and I’m sorry if that makes me feel anxious, okay?”

“I do not think smiley and giggly are terms that-”

“Spock!” You interrupt him, “I don’t want a grammar lesson! I want you to tell me that no french Doctor could ever take you from me because you don’t like French or something like that.”

You wave your hands in the air, trying to capture what you’re feeling as if Spock didn’t already feel that through the bond.

“Dr. Lefebvre thinks we are married,” he says instead and you gape at him.

“What? Why?”

“Because we are close, we’ve been dating for almost two years. I told her we aren’t and she was giggling because she mentioned something about getting down on one knee and found it amusing that I did not get the reference.”

You lean your head against the door of your cupboard.

“Humans go down on one knee when they propose,” you explain to him and he nods in understanding. “That makes sense. Vulcans sing when they propose. Or hold a speech, whatever feels more natural to them.”

“Do you want to?”

“What? Sing? Hold a speech?”

You smile at him trying to copy your humor and shake your head.

“Get married.”

“Oh… well, we are bonded. In Vulcan terms, we are already engaged.”

You laugh at that and step over to where he’s standing, waiting for you to get ready.

“Take my hand, Spock.” You can feel your heart picking up speed, your brain trying to get you to rethink what you’re doing, but you’re not one to rethink yourself.

“Why?” But Spock is.

“I’m trying to ask you to marry me, so take my damned hand!”

He pulls a face at you but takes your hand and watches you with curious eyes as you go down on one knee. It’s difficult in the uniform you’re wearing, but possible.

“Will you, Spock, do me the honor of becoming my husband as soon as we make it to the next starbase?”

Spock crinkles his nose. “Our next stop is on Delta Vega, which is an ice desert void of any civilization. If you do not want to get wed by the poor man working the starbase, I’d advise waiting for a more suitable place.”

You groan.

“Would you marry me then on the next starbase we are both happy with?”

He sends you a strong feeling of happiness through the bond instead of answering and you laugh and jump up to wrap your arms around him.

“And now, the custom of kissing my fiancé,” you joke with a smile before leaning in.

He meets your lips with his own and you can feel an emotion through the bond, taking over your mind.

It’s happiness in its purest form.

It’s love.

-


End file.
